Drifting
by princessmelia
Summary: Tag to 1x21. Inspired by the promotional picture released on Entertainment Weekly. They were drifting in the ocean, alone and dying. But at least they had each other. A Fitzsimmons piece.


_**A/N-** Tag to 1x21. Inspired by the promotional picture released on Entertainment Weekly._

_**Summary-** They were drifting in the ocean, alone and dying. But at least they had each other._

* * *

Fitz gazed down forlornly at his arm. He remembered when he had received it a few hours ago and had to blink back tears.

_They'd started in on Jemma, and her muffled cries of pain wrenched at Fitz's heart. He hoped they were doing the same to Ward. "Don't do it! I know that you care about us, Ward!" The words made the specialist pause, but he soon raised his fist again. Seeing that talking wouldn't get him anywhere, Fitz rushed in front of her._

_It was a poor decision._

_They'd told him not to move. He was promised punishment if he didn't listen, though he hadn't really believed it at the time. He'd still had faith in Ward. But that faith was shaken when Ward held out his arm, and Garrett stepped down painfully on the bone. He'd heard Jemma's gasp over his cry of agony._

_Since it was his first offense, they'd allowed Simmons to bind up the arm and set it properly. "Don't do it again," she whispered to him. "Please." A few tears rolled down her face, and he promised. _

They sat apart from each other now, lost in their own thoughts. Fitz didn't want to admit it, but he'd still believed in Ward until the moment the medical pod fell through the air and hit the water.

His head hung low in defeat. They were going to die. And not just die, but die at the hand of a friend.

Jemma's muffled sobs filled up the compartment. She was trying to conserve air, he could tell, but if she didn't stop crying it would never happen. He looked up to speak to her, but paused before he could open his mouth. Her body was curled in on itself, closed off, and the form was so un-Jemma that he had to reassess what was happening. They weren't just going to die: they were dying. In that moment, there was nothing left in the world but the two of them.

"Jemma?"

She looked up and made eye contact with him. "I'm sorry, Fitz. I'm wasting the… the…"-she took a deep breath and gestured around her- "the air."

"No, no don't be sorry. Not for that." He blinked a few times to clear the tears out of his eyes. "You're my best friend, Jemma." Now he was the one choking back on sobs, and, as if she read his mind, Simmons crashed down beside him and hugged him tightly.

"I love you, Fitz." She kissed the top of his head.

"You too, Jemma."

"I'm sorry we went into the field." Her arms were still around his neck, but she settled onto the ground beside him, moving so that her head rested on his unhurt shoulder.

"Don't be." His arm moved to encircle her. "None of S.H.I.E.L.D. was safe. And I don't regret it."

"No?"

"No. Not a moment."

They were silent for a few moments. Jemma's familiar breathing beside him calmed Fitz. How many nights had they spent next to each other, worrying about exams or inventions or missions? Too many to count to be sure. And now it was the last time they would have to worry.

"Why?" The question broke the silence.

"Why what?"

"Why don't you regret it?"

Her voice was full of genuine curiosity, and it made Fitz bite his lip. He knew the answer, but was he ready for her to know? Glancing out the med pod window and seeing only darkness, he found he didn't care. Screw fear.

"I don't regret it because I got to know you."

"You already knew me," she responded with a swat to his chest. He could practically hear the smile in her voice.

"Not like this," he answered with a shake of his head. "Never like this. And after all this time out here, I realized something."

"What?"

"I love you." They'd said it before, but this was different. Fitz knew it. He knew Simmons knew it. "I know its rubbish timing, and I'm an idiot and everything, and if you don't feel the same that's okay, I just needed you to know."

Simmons shifted out from under his arm, and he turned his gaze away. Her fingers started at the crown of his head and worked their way down, grazing his cheeks lightly and meeting under his chin.

"Leopold Fitz"-her voice was soft but demanding-"you are, and will always be, my hero." She pulled at his face and forced him to look at her. Her eyes were warm and brimming with love. And this time, he knew he wasn't dreaming. "And I love you more than anything in this world."

"Good." His lips formed a watery smile. "Good, cause I love you more than anything too."

"Leo." She whispered his name before moving her hands to either side of his face and leaning in close to press a kiss to his lips. It was everything he ever dreamed it would be. He reached up with his right hand to gently caress her hair, and show how much she meant to him. He loved her. And she loved him. And it was amazing how happy those two simple facts could make him.

She pulled away and they were both left breathless- in more ways than one. Remembering where they were, Simmons curled up against Fitz, her legs crossing over his lap and her head resting on his chest.

"Heart beat is erratic," she commented absent-mindedly.

"Yeah? I bet yours is too."

"A bit," she admitted with a laugh. They grew quiet again. He wanted to break the silence. Silence was thinking, and thinking was brooding, and brooding was not where he wanted to be after his first kiss with Jemma. So he picked the first question that popped into his mind.

"What was in the box?"

"What box?" Her tone of voice made him picture her puckered face of confusion, even if it was concealed from his sight.

"On the island. Koenig's questions."

"Oh, that box." Her head nodded up and down. "You'll love my answer."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Bet it was better than yours," Simmons challenged. It almost made him laugh.

"I doubt it."

"The T.A.R.D.I.S.," she answered smugly.

"That may just be the perfect answer," Fitz conceded with a nod. She was the smarter one; he'd never doubted that for a second.

"What about you?" He'd known the question would be coming, but there was no use avoiding it now.

"It was you," he admitted sheepishly.

"Me?" Her voice wasn't scandalized or flattered or shocked, merely curious. He was thankful.

"But I would change it now."

"Why?"

"Because if there was any way I could get you out of this pod, I would do it in a heartbeat." The declaration was made with a quiet intensity. He would never put Simmons in harm's way, not even for his comfort or benefit. She sat up quietly to face him.

"The same for me," she told him with honest sincerity before her eyes flickered away. "But I'm glad I'm here with you." Her face turned to his, and she gave him a shy smile. Gently, he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'm glad I'm with you too."

The air was getting thin. They both knew what would be best for both of them: sleep. It would slow down their body functions, conserve air until someone could find them. Or make for a more peaceful passing.

"Fitz?"

"I know. Just a few moments more." They stared at each other, memorizing the face before them. Simmons leaned in again and placed a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "I love you," she whispered one more time before curling up against him.

"I love you, too."

And then they drifted off to sleep.

* * *

**-princessmelia**


End file.
